“It's too expensive”: anatomy of the price of a photographic artwork

What determines the price of a photograph?

Surprising as it may seem, this is not a question I am often asked. Despite nearly ten years of exhibiting, I can count on one hand the number of times it has been raised.

Yet, somewhat paradoxically, the last two occasions were very recent. It is therefore a question that some people genuinely ask themselves, and one that is always more pleasant to hear than the usual: “It’s too expensive for a photograph”, a remark one sometimes overhears from visitors who think they are not being listened to.

I admit that, when you think about it, a photographic artwork is nothing more than ink on a piece of paper. In other words, nothing, or at least not much.

This also reminds me of a conversation. I was contacted by a friend the other day. This friend is not a photographer at all, but he takes a few pictures from time to time.

He came to me looking for places to have his images printed, which, in his own words, are not artworks, but which he would still like to have in professional quality. A photography enthusiast and occasional buyer, he felt that even in places such as YellowKorner, which sell “artworks” at relatively accessible prices, the costs still seemed high.

Yellow Korner was a company specialized in fine-art photography. It offered prints in “numbered editions,” in the example above up to 300 copies, with the aim of making contemporary photography more accessible to the general public. The issue was that prices remained high for works referred to as “artworks,” but which do not necessarily fall under the legal status of fine art in the strict sense (I discuss this further below).

As I am a good friend, I therefore openly gave him the labs I personally use and where I know he will get the best quality.

He ended up calling me a few days later to say he found the prices excessively high. Which brings me to the first point of this blog:

A photographic artwork is expensive because it is expensive to produce.

Because behind the idea that it is only ink on paper, one has to realize that ink costs money (just look at the price of printer cartridges at home), and that paper prices have increased, in general indifference, by more than 50% over the past five years.

So my friend, who tends to think big, quickly realized that his perception of the cost of a photograph was not entirely accurate.

In his words: “paying €500 to print photos that are not even perfect (even though they are mine) is a bit expensive”… Here we are again, back to that same phrase.

So if €500 already feels too expensive to print one’s own images, is it still too expensive to buy an artist’s work?

I will not even go into the amortization of costs, the price of the camera, film, or the years spent refining one’s practice (I have already written about that here). I will go straight to my second point:

Recognition

Recognition, reputation, market value… call it what you want. Although there are obvious nuances between these terms, the idea remains the same: when you buy a Cocteau or a Matisse, you are not only buying the artwork, but also the artist’s recognition within the art world.

It is essentially this recognition that explains why an artist sells for less at the beginning of their career than later on.

Being part of private or public collections, and being acknowledged by peers and institutions, profoundly transforms an artist’s positioning.

For example:

As for me, even if the price of my works may seem high to some people, I actually position myself in the lower range of pricing typically practiced by artists with a comparable career path.

The reason is simple: I am not represented by a gallery (I will explain why I am reluctant to be represented in a future article). When you acquire a work from me, you buy it directly, without any intermediary taking a commission.

If I were represented by a gallery, my works would automatically be priced at least twice as high. Like any product, what also determines the price of a photograph is the number of actors involved in its sale.

Another important factor, beyond market value, is the rarity of the work.

Third point: how many copies ?

Photography, in most cases, is a reproducible medium. It does not operate like painting, where each work is fundamentally unique.

An instant film. A unique copy. Sold artwork*

In France, up to 30 photographic prints can be produced while still retaining the status of an artwork. Beyond that, it is considered the sale of a commercial object, and regardless of print quality, it becomes closer to the sale of “posters”.

In any case, the photography world is well aware of this: low-edition works are generally more highly valued by galleries and collectors. As a result, pricing reflects this reality: an edition limited to three prints will be more expensive than the same image produced in fifteen copies.

The issue is that, although it may seem obvious that rarity increases value, this is not always well understood when it comes to photography.

I would even go further: while this factor is decisive for some, for others it matters little and simply adds to the perceived cost of a work they already like.

So what about unique photographs?

Because yes, they do exist. I occasionally produce them myself, and they are highly sought after by some of you. Polaroids, for example, are unique works.

There are also analog photographic processes that produce one-of-a-kind pieces. I regularly experiment with direct positive paper, which, as the name suggests, produces an immediate image without the use of a negative.

Fourth point: stating the obvious, size

If I return to my friend who wanted to print some of his photos, his intention was to produce prints of around one meter in width. It goes without saying that the larger the work, the higher the production cost.

In recent years, we have seen the rise of rigid supports such as aluminum printing. I personally enjoy this medium for my limited-edition digital works. However, it is an expensive support.

My friend initially chose this option, before reconsidering. I then advised him to print on paper, which significantly reduced costs. He was convinced… until he discovered the price of frames. To give you an idea: a one-meter-wide frame can cost several times more than the artwork it contains. And if you add anti-reflective glass, the cost increases by several hundred euros.

A work measuring 120 cm in height, with a custom-made frame and anti-reflective glass. The work was produced as part of my residency with the Museums of Angers.

In short, however one turns the equation, producing a photographic print is expensive. Very expensive.

The remaining reasons are sociological in nature.

The price of a work is often perceived as too high because its accessibility, its technical trivialization, and its omnipresence in everyday life create the idea that it should remain a simple, immediately available object, and therefore a low-cost one.

Photography suffers from a structural issue: everyone now has a camera in their pocket, and therefore everyone feels legitimized to produce images. From this arises a persistent confusion between taking photos and doing photography. In other words, between producing occasional images and building a photographic body of work over time, with intent and a coherent statement.

It is true that, technically, pressing a button requires neither long training nor physical effort comparable to other artistic practices.

The problem is that this technical ease has contaminated the overall perception of the medium. Because images are accessible to everyone, they are also expected to remain accessible in every sense, including economically.

The most honest among you might say: “I realized I wasn’t good at photography, I tried, and I can’t reach a professional level.” Yet you would be surprised by the number of people who, at my exhibitions, look at my works and then show me images on their phones claiming they are doing the same thing. In 99% of cases, the gap is enormous.

What I am getting at is that there is a fairly common perceptual bias. Some people relate images to one another without always measuring the real gap between them. It would be like comparing the latest Marvel film to Scorsese. They are both released in cinemas, and that is essentially where the similarity ends. And yet, as everyone knows, Marvel films dominate the box office. Which says a lot.

#valuejudgment? Yes, absolutely.

Conclusion

Ultimately, beyond the artistic and structural explanations mentioned above, if anyone can produce images continuously without being able to perceive differences in level, the very status of photography becomes diluted.

If a photograph is expensive, it is therefore not only because of its production cost, but also because the perception of that price appears, for part of the public, as inappropriate in relation to what an image is assumed to be.